


Dream a Little Dream of Me

by Flashfight



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Fem!Barry - Freeform, FlashWave Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 15:32:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9614348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flashfight/pseuds/Flashfight
Summary: As Barry recovers from the events of 'Rogue Time' she begins dreaming of someone she's always hoped to meet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So an important thing to note in the story is that it's a known fact that soulmates in dreams are separated by a perception wall. So in a dream even if two people are right next to each other and are in full sight of each other they don't have access to the knowledge of what the other person looks or sounds like. They can register words said but they can’t know who's saying them. I realize there is quite a bit of describing things or ideas in the story, but my hope is that it will give a proper feel for how the dream is ever-shifting and ill-defined.
> 
> In any case, please enjoy, and let me know if you find any errors!

Barry had her first dream on January 23rd, and nothing had ever made her feel so simultaneously ecstatic and crushed.

It had only been a few days after her first confrontation with the duo of Captain Cold and Heatwave. The edges of the dream were still blurry and fuzzy, as if she was looking through frosted glass. Even here, the muted pain of the past week of burns, frostbite, and the terror of nearly losing one of her best friends had followed her, burrowing into her bones. But all of that was offset by the sheer delight she felt, knowing that she was going to meet the person meant for _her_. 

There were plenty of people that didn’t care for the idea of soulmates, and for awhile Barry was one of them. She had loved Iris dearly, still did to an extent, but neither of them had a dream growing up. Even when it became clear they weren’t soulmates, Barry just didn’t care. She still believed they could be together. That is, until she learned Iris met Eddie while Barry was in her coma, and she was overjoyed to find him. When she woke up, Barry just had to accept that Iris was happy. What kind of friend, what kind of _sister_ would she be to tear her sister away from someone that obviously treasured her? 

But now Barry was finally having _her_ dream. It didn’t matter to her who her soulmate was, she just wanted the _closure_. Just to know that somewhere out there, there was a person that was a part of her and that she, in turn, was a part of. 

The dream slowly took shape around her, curling like smoke into familiar and unknown figures alike. Parts of it came from her memories, the rest from her mate. There was a dining table from Joe’s house, a well-worn sofa she couldn’t identify, a rug from her old home, a painting she vaguely recognized but knew she never owned. A few old pictures, faces made unrecognizable by the perception filter. Barry was pretty sure some were pictures of people she didn’t know, though. Wood and warm-colored wallpaper meet with stone and metal that reminded her of a garage or warehouse. It was a small, cozy space, still wrapped in a hazy sheen that made the whole thing look like a Monet. Shuffling drew Barry’s attention away from the shifting dream. She hadn’t realized she wasn’t the only one awake (or rather, asleep). The shuffling was followed by muffled cursing in another… room? Area? The limits of the space weren’t very well defined, she realized.

In any case, Barry moved in the voice’s direction. It was man, maybe. Of that she was moderately certain. It was hard to tell behind the perception filter. “Hello? Who are you?” she asked, voice echoing oddly in the unreal space. The person turned, swearing quite loudly. They then saw Barry, and cursed a bit louder. Barry felt just a little insulted. “Sorry, I didn’t mean scare you. I’m-”

The person threw up their hand, harshly shouting, “STOP, stop right there. I don’t wanna know your name, who you are, or anything about you. I don’t want a soulmate, I don’t _need_ a soulmate, so shut up and _leave me alone_.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in, and although the dream itself dulled some of the ache, Barry could the feel the heartbreak settling in. She was still curious about one thing though.

“...That’s fair, I suppose. Can you answer one question, though?”

“No.”

“What gender are you?”

The person narrowed their eyes in confusion. “What.”

“I just keep calling you ‘the person’ in my mind and if I have to see you everytime I dream I’d at least like to call you by the right pronouns.”

They looked at her for moment, and even the wrinkle in their brow never went away, she could tell when their face softened in resignation. “I’m a guy.”

“Okay.”

“Aren’t you gonna tell me what you are?”

“ _You’re_ the one who doesn’t want to know anything about me.”

Barking out a laugh the man said, “You’re a smartass, aren’t you? Maybe you won’t be the worst thing to ever happen to me.”

Neither one spoke for the rest of the dream, each one taking in their new surroundings. Many of the dreams they shared after that were one-sided, with Barry sharing weird science stuff, or dumb stories of her past, or mysterious deaths she was looking into. The man didn’t seem to mind, although Barry quickly learned that his face rarely changed at all. Whether it was him or a product of the perception filter, Barry wasn’t quite sure.

“So there I was, on fire, but like, gently on fire? Like, my sister is screaming and I’m just like, ‘I’m fine, calm down, I’m sciencing. I’ll put it out later.’” They were sitting on what was both Joe’s living room couch and what her mate said was a sofa from his friend’s place (the dream couldn’t quite decide which one it prefered at the time), and Barry was telling the story of the time she almost set Joe’s backyard on fire when the man finally cracked.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I’ve seen a lot of fires, set quite a few of them, and there is no such thing as ‘gently on fire.’ You are on fire, or you are not.”

“It was tiny flame? I mean, obviously flames grow, but at that point I was too busy sciencing to care.” She was grinning at the complete absurdity of her high school self, and the man seemed just as enthused, laughter bubbling up from deep in his chest.

“You were on fire, and you were just like, ‘Yeah, this is cool.’?”

“Well, not to nitpick, but it was hot, not cool.”

He made a sound like he was groaning and chuckling at the same time. “You and my best friend would get along all too well.”

“Would you say,” she started, pausing to giggle every so often, “we’d get along like a house on fire?”

He really did groan at that. “Ugh, God. Yes, yes you would.”

As their laughter died down, Barry looked over at the man next to her. Watching for a moment she tried to commit something, anything to memory, even if she knew it was an exercise in futility. His eyes met hers, dark in the low light of the fire that had begun licking at the walls. Somehow that seemed right.

“What’s that look for, kid?” Barry decided to ignore the question, instead shifting her eyes to the fire surrounding them. If she tilted her head she could almost see lightning in the flames, red and yellow bouncing off each other.

“So, now that you’re talking to me, are we friends now?” she asked.

“No, this? This is me tolerating your existence. You gotta work up to friend.” He was looking too now, and the flames flickered as cold breeze passed through. Could dreams be drafty? She supposed so.

“That seems fair.”

{}

Mick didn’t need a soulmate. But, although he would never admit it, he liked the kid that had taken up residence in his dreams. She was quirky, contemplative, and bright. She never stopped, always moving or talking, and failing that, he could tell her mind couldn’t stop for anything, whether she liked it or not. It was probably why the dream could never quite settle on anything. Mick could tell when her mind was churning. She would look vaguely like sh’d sucked on a lemon, just like she looked the night she asked, “Would you tell me something about yourself?”

Mick didn’t look up from his beer. “Not much to tell.”

“You said you set fires, right? I think you said that.”

“I did. I do.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes it’s part of my job. Sometimes I just… They just happen.” He considered it a good sign she looked more fascinated than frightened by the flames that were once again biting at the furniture.

“Do you like setting fires?”

Mick had to think about that for a moment. ‘Like’ just didn’t feel like the right word. The fire died almost to a smolder before returning to life as he said, “Fire has a way of showing you who you are, who you’re meant to be. I revere fire. I got burned, and I found my true self.”

The kid looked at him closely, the same shrewd way she always did, and said “... So in other words, you had a baptism by fire.”

Mick was going to kill her.

“You know what, here I am, pouring my heart out, and you’re gonna be a little shit about it?” It didn’t take long for them to end up on the floor, laughing the entire way, the girl wrestling to get free of the headlock he’d put her in. “It’s not even funny, you dick!” For the briefest moment he remembered being a kid in the old house, right before his old man’s temper went south, and the dream took him back there, just for that moment. Finally, he collapsed on the floor on his back, the kid turning over to lay on his stomach. Both were breathless, still laughing like fools, and Mick loved it.

“You should- you should smile more. I like the way your eyes crinkle,” she said, propping her chin up on his chest. He liked her smile too. It was sweet and warm, just like sun on his family’s old farm. He should tell her that.

“Whatever. I like your face too.” Nailed it.

“So eloquent. It’s no wonder I fell for you.” Obviously she appreciated his stellar speaking skills, smiling as she rolled next to him onto the grass (When had they moved outside? He figured it wasn’t important). Mick wasn’t sure how long they were there, lying down quietly, but he knew he felt better afterward.

{}

It surprised Barry what her mate was into sometimes. Now that they were talking more and more he would pick her brain for all she knew about chemistry, and they somehow watched a lot of the same shows. However- 

“Bullshit. How did you just _miss_ _Gravity_? It’s exactly your thing, and no-one would shut up about it, how did you miss it?” While Barry deeply loved her soulmate, nothing could convince her he wasn’t a career asshole.

“Leave me alone! I was in a coma for nine months!”

He scoffed, actually scoffed, and said, “Oh, yeah, very funny.” When all Barry did was shrug and remain silent, the message seemed to get through. “ _Are you serious?_ ”

“At least I didn’t marry my best friend for criminal purposes!”

“Hey, hey, we married for the tax exemptions, not the testifying thing.” Barry rolled her eyes so hard they should have popped out of her head. “Maybe we married for both, who are you to judge?”

{}

Mick’s soulmate didn’t do _sad_. Upset, sure. Maybe even mildly put-out. But this was different, he could tell. This had to be handled delicately.

“What’s wrong with you?” Fuck.

“My mom died today.” _Fuck_. “I mean, not _today_ today, it was fifteen years ago, but… It still hurts, ya know?” She was curled up in a loveseat that Mick had quickly learned was her comfort chair. The placement was a bit odd, as it was out in the middle of his family’s field, but hey, whatever helped. As there was a particular lack of seats, he picked up the girl and sat back down cradling her in his arms. She seemed to welcome it, burying her face in his neck.

“Were you close?”

Her answer was a muffled, “Very.”

“I lost my family when I was a kid too.”

“You still miss them, right?”

“Most of ‘em. No love lost for my old man, but the rest...”

“If we could turn back time...” Finally she looked up, eyes gazed over with tears and hopes he knew would never come to pass. The universe didn’t work like that.

“Maybe. But honestly? Without that fire I wouldn’t have met my partner, and who knows? Maybe you wouldn’t be my soulmate.”

The question was quiet, hesitant. “You’d miss me?”

“Mmhm. Even if your jokes are shit.” A breathy laugh was all he got in answer. It was enough. Once again, silent hours of solace passed in that field. The dream hadn’t changed in a while, Mick idly thought. Somehow that seemed right.

{}

“So my week was terrible.”

“Mine was… alright. Coulda been better.”

Barry was pissed. She was done. Captain Cold and Heatwave could find someone else to pick on for all she cared. “My best friend was kidnapped, a mere two months after my other friend was kidnapped, by the same guys mind you. If I could leave this awful city, I would.” Her companion suddenly narrowed his eyes.

“... You wouldn’t happen to live in Central City, would you?”

“I do, why?”

He paused for a moment, schooling his expression back into something more neutral. “Lotta crazy stuff’s happenin’ in Central. Starling too, but the real crazy stuff’s in Central.”

“Ugh, you have no idea.”

“I feel like I kinda have an idea.”

Though her suspicion was growing, Barry put aside for the moment. Strange behavior or not, she just needed someone to complain to. “And I swear, these guys have, like, a hate boner for me. Like, they do all this illegal stuff, and they wanna kill me, but the moment I’m like, oh sorry, can’t come to your bank robbery, I’m busy? They kidnap a woman in order to request a playdate.” When she looked back, Mick had a twisted expression on his face, like he’d just realized he left an infant with a child murder or something equally egregious. “What?”

“Nothing. Um, what- what would you think of them? Like, if they weren’t trying to kill you.”

“If they weren’t trying to kill me, they’d be great! They’re hilarious, and one is built like a bear, which I am endlessly attracted to. Not that I would compare you to him, you are my soulmate and I love you, but _wow_ , the biceps on that guy.”

He nodded absently. “I worked out a lot in jail.”

That certainly caught her attention. “Wait, what?”

“Fuck.”

{}  
Barry caught up with Mick outside their dream in an apartment on the edge of town.

”You just _left_.”

”Can you blame me? I was stressed.” The arsonist was leaning on the kitchen wall, refusing to look anywhere in her direction.

“ _You’re_ my soulmate.” Should it be weird that her soulmate was a criminal? Barry couldn’t find it in herself to care.

“Yeah, I mean, I guess so.”

“You _knew_.”

“Not for long. Only a couple days.”

“And you didn’t _tell me_?”

“Our sleep schedules were out of sync, I just didn’t see you, to tell you.” Mick finally left the wall, though he still avoided her eyes as he approached. “But hey, there are two good things about this.”

“What?”

“Now I know you’re prettier than you are funny.” It was his attempt to lighten the mood, one she accepted by giggling in response.

“And the other thing?”

“I get see your face when I kiss you.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled in the way she loved as they kissed, softly and shyly, like both were figuring it out for the first time. Somehow that seemed right.


End file.
